Gambit

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His wounds had been treated, though they would take weeks to heal. It was all Cedric could do to ignore the throbbing pain that wracked his mangled body. The tournament had proven to be a violent one indeed, but he'd elected to let his injuries heal of their own natural accord; doing otherwise would undermine his participation to the tourney. Though he might not have won, he had succeeded in earning the recommendation of [member="Garrus Garon"]. In way, one could say he had won after all - just not in the traditional sense.

Clad in the raven-shaded longcoat of his homeworld, Cedric strode into the palace of Sundari. The guards gave him pause, though once they understood the reasoning for his coming he was allowed to pass. They checked him for any weapons on his person, though nothing of note was found. He'd wasted no time in marching through the palace after that, extending his senses far beyond that of his immediate vicinity. His vision of the palace was cloudy at best, the palace having been nullified to the force just as much of Mandalore had. It made the youth uncomfortable; the Mandalorians had tampered with the natural order of life, and life itself would eventually rise up to punish them for it.

It always did.

Even still, it was not Cedric's place to judge. He had not come here to accuse the Mandalorians of any misgivings, nor had he come as a response to the betrayal on Dagobah. Cedric had come of his own accord for his own reasons; he'd grown wise enough not to hold grudges.

The doors to the inner palace awaited. Cedric halted outside of them, arms folding behind the small of his back. "I'm here to speak with the Mandalore," his voice was hoarse from yelling in the arena, "I'm Cedric Grayson. Garrus Garon vouched for me."

He waited.

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

One of the competitors wanted an audience with the Mand’alor.

[member="Ambrose Mantis"] growled low in his throat at the appearance of a Jedi at the Sundari Palace. The Yalilyr’s Alor and head of the Mand’alor’s personal force, marched clean to the place where [member="Cedric Grayson"] was admitted.

“Let me be clear, Jetii, if not for [member="Garrus Garon"], you never would have been allowed within this biodome, let alone Mand’alor the Infernal’s Palace.”

Below the Jedi, a Bral was placed, effectively excising the Force from the vicinity of the meeting. The gurlanin growled louder, then passed open the door, and led Grayson to where a woman in gold and black armour stood, near seven feet tall, in front of a round table.

“Place the Seventh Squad on the third terraformer, give them another ration of tihaar each, and two more rations of protein if they increase productivity another 25%. Push the world engines. Bissau, take the Fifth to the terra gardens. See if we can’t bring more fresh water from New Keldabe to increase production flow on the next crop of vegetables. Make sure to disseminate them through the by-lands outside the bio-cities… dismissed. Thank you, everyone. Make sure to grab some lunch on your way out.”

The Mandalorians around the Mand’alor saluted, and disseminated.

“Don’t work too hard, Mand’alor. Just ‘cause you’re living for two right now doesn’t mean you have to work twice as hard.” One of the engineers said, giving a salute toward Yasha’s distended belly.

Yasha chuckled, and nodded, sitting against the table with her buy’ce beside her.

“Ambrose, what have you brought me? The Jetii? What would you ask of Mand’alor the Infernal, Cedric Grayson?”

 

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"I'm quite aware of that fact, my friend," Cedric offered Ambrose an easy smile, and held his hands up in mock surrender. "I know my place here. I will not overstep, you need not worry of that." It wasn't as if he could do anything out of line if he even wanted to. Out of respect for the Mandalorians, he had opted to leave his lightsaber back on the ship. Normally the Force would have made for a better weapon anyway, but the nullification field was certainly living up to its name. When the two men stepped into the Mandalore's chamber, Cedric felt the faintest twinge of life.

The force was nullified here, but it was never gone. Cedric could not tap into its power, but the promise of future life was something he felt instinctively. Had his connection not been temporarily severed, he would have probed the infant's mind, discerning gender and whatever else he might have been curious about. As things were, he contented himself with mild amusement at the Mandalore's interactions with her compatriots. He waited patiently for her to finish her dealings, only parting his lips to speak once she'd fully dismissed her retinue.

"That's quite the title Mand'alor," the Jedi Knight flashed her a friendly smile. "Your majesty, I have come here to speak with you on matters of grave importance. I entered in your tournament, and fought as one of your people - I have come here to show the Mando'ade that the Jedi need not be your enemies any longer," he paused, "That being said, I come alone. No galactic power or government sent me. This was of my own private volition."

He paused, "I...know our people have a past Mand'alor, and I know my brethren have likely left the Mandalorian people with a lingering sentiment of disdain. Our people have committed mutual atrocities against one another, but I believe it is time for that all to end."

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Ambrose chuffed at being called any aruetii’s friend, yet he kept his tongue. Mand’alor the Infernal’s meeting closed and Ambrose took his place behind Yasha, holding his rifle firm.

“The title was well earned, I assure you. Mand’alor, not Majesty. I am first among equals, not royal, and would not be worshipped as some form of Queen.” It was hard to ignore the third trimester belly of Yasha Mantis. Even harder was sensing anything from a body that was Force Dead. The Mand'alor's hand moved to her belly, rubbing along the weave and plate which protected it.

“You requested an audience with Mand’alor to tell me the Jetii and Mando’ade can be friends?” The pregnant woman eased her boot onto the seat of the nearest chair and smirked, her black lipstick pouted on a full mouth. Raven hair done up in a crown braid atop her head, the Epicanthix beauty looked far more apt for kinder pastures than the onslaught of war, to which the Mandalorians were known. Yet the kindness in her was hardened by beskar in her spine.

The woman was indomitable, and not easily shaken.

“You do realize I am the one to relax the laws against Force Users within my Empire? And that my councillors and I have opened peace talks with the Silver Jedi, our southern neighbours? There is no great love of the Force here, nor of Jetii who are so quickly shifted from their supposed peaceful means. Yet, my experience has brought me the wisdom of temperance. Speak further, out with it. What do you want of Mand’alor? You would not have come if all you wanted was the promise of a future hug.”

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

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The woman spoke obvious truths; more importantly, she cut to the heart of the issue. Cedric listened with his arms behind the small of his back as she smoke, blue eyes never leaving the Mand'alor. The force had left him here, but his mind remained, and it told him that she was likely around his own age.

A time of young rulers.

He would have been amused, had the gravity of the situation not weighed upon him. Not wishing to look the fool, he held his tongue until she posed her question: why had he come? He'd intended to work his usual political magic, flattering the opposite party, and working to make them see him less as someone to negotiate with, and more of a friend. One often was far more eager to perform a favor for a friend, after all.

Unfortunately for Cedric, his diplomatic acumen was more or less worthless here. The Mandalorians didn't negotiate the way most did.

So he chose to adopt their form of speech.

"Are you so sure? Sometimes a man just needs a hug." A hint of good humor laced his words. Even now, Cedric could not refrain from making out of place dad jokes, such was the curse of being his father's child.

His smile faded. "But really, you're correct," the man's gaze shifted to Ambrose, then to the Mand'alor. "The Sith are reaching out for the core once again. There are some of us moving to slow that advance," the man's brow furrowed. "I'm not presumptuous enough to ask that the Mando'ade aid us - you have your own concerns to deal with. All I ask is that Mandalore's armies do not march with the Sith against us when we make our move."

A pause, "That being said," his voice grew steely. "Were the Mando'ade to consider allying with us in any capacity, we would do everything in our power to assist you in your endeavors. The Sith are the ultimate threat to freedom in this galaxy; a trait the Mandalorians hold in high regard if my knowledge is correct. They will eventually turn their attentions to the realms of Mandalore. It is not a question of if, but a question of when."

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“A man ought to get a hug from his family, our arms are cold and well protected here.” Yasha shared none of the humour in [member="Cedric Grayson"]’s face. So it was to the acts of war, which so many desired of Mandalore that Grayson sought the ear of Mand’alor the Infernal.

“You would have me turn against a solemn pact of Non-Aggression to, what, be swept under the tilling fires of the Sith Empire? To bleed and die for Jetii? We, who only recently gained our freedom from a tyrant’s cataclysm? For those who only a few years ago, thought taking trophies of our dead was an acceptable pastime?”

Yasha slid from the table and stood at her near seven foot height, arms resting upon her distended stomach. “The Sith Empire has been our ally. When Mandalore reeled from the Cataclysm and our people laid choking in ash, thanks to so-called lightside Force Users, it was the Sith Empire who funded our recovery, with no promise or desire of return. When [member="Darth Carnifex"] had the anger to smite us for the death of his son, he stayed his hand. Emperor Zambrano’s chiding has taught me more of might and mercy than two years sitting beside Mand’alor the Undying’s throne. I feel for those caught in the Dark Lord’s path. I do. But Darth Carnifex and I have an agreement. We know the utter meat grinder which would become of a battle between Sith and Mandalorian, and for my Empire, I have the greatest of love. Why should I damage further the relationship between Empires, for those who barely respect our sovereignty at all? As for marching beside the Sith, they require no help from us to accomplish their goals. My warriors act only for my Empire. Not another’s.”

Eyes warm with complicated emotions, face a mask of authority and calm, the heavily pregnant woman stared down at the Jedi who came to her bower.

“As odd as it sounds coming from Mand’alor, I will not bring my people into outright war. Especially not for those whose ideals are radically divergent from our own. Take this wisdom from me now, my Empire will not bait or be baited into a conflict with those of whom we have treaties and pacts. I am not Mand’alor the Fickle. I will not turn on the Pact forged with Carnifex, and I know for certainty’s sake he will not turn on it either. You say the Sith are the ultimate threat. What of the Galactic Alliance, who even now burn Myrkr’s forests and attempt massive collateral damage against my people? Or the Alliance Captain who destroyed a medical station under a banner of truce? What of the Republicans, who spread through the Silver Jedi and the Remnant, who glassed the refugee planet of Sabarene, which Carnifex helped Jedi Master [member="Manu Xextos"] found with Epicanthix colonizers, and Echani, Nelvaani and Chandaari refugees? Or the Jedi attack on Mirial, killing tens of thousands of innocents the Sith were rescuing there? Or recently at Kuat, where the so-called defenders sent an orbital ring crashing to the planet below, killing billions?”

She let the list linger in the air, hearing the low basso growl from [member="Ambrose Mantis"].

“The problem with choosing a side against the Sith is this, Cedric Grayson. I have seen in my few years, more atrocities committed by those who claim the moral high ground, than by those who are condemned for their villainy. Show me Jedi of substance, show me peacemakers, and those who war only for the betterment of others. Those who keep their tactics pure, with the least collateral damage and tacticians who carry wisdom in place of the sword, and I will consider what you show. For this moment in time, my experience leads me to continue the neutrality of my Empire, and to preserve the lives of my people, who by your road would be thrown into vicious conflicts with no hope of survival or reward.”

Stroking her belly, Yasha looked down to her growing baby and back up to Grayson. "My people recover from atrocities which nearly destroyed us all. We are back to our strength through the toil and sweat of my Councillors, and our faith in the Resol'nare. We require the space and time to grow, to have our children in safety, and return our planet to good harvests. You ask too much of us, and you ask wrongly for our blood to shed for your benefit."

 

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Cedric did not waver.

"I will not argue points of atrocity and war. One is often very quick to forget that the majority of such atrocities were only ever committed in the face of the Sith's genocide, cleansing of worlds, and enslavement of millions. Still, I do not excuse what has happened."

It was a conversation he'd had a thousand times, with ears that only heard what they wished to hear - with individuals that believed imperial propaganda as if it were truth.

To say that Cedric was frustrated was an understatement, but he did not let that frustration reach his features, nor did it ever creep into his voice.

"I only ask that you ignore my people when we move, and you will know it when we do," his tone was level. "If you wish to see honorable Jedi, then I will show you as much. Mand'alor and her people need only watch. Of that, you have my word."

A Mandalorian can never understand what a Jedi truly is.

No, that is my ignorance thinking for me. My frustration.

Cedric drew in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "I suppose I should take my leave then. There is much work to be done, and very little time to do it." In truth, he'd expected less out of this meeting. Past experience informed him of such.
The knight turned to leave, though he halted. He was here on the Mand'alor's grace; he would not be unwise to presume he could leave without her permission.

"May I?"

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“You are on Mandalore, Jetii Grayson. Who knows war like the Mando’ade? We were not committing genocide, when those of supposed light attacked us. We were living in our homes, serving the clans, raising warriors. So many of those voices are silenced now…” Yasha hugged her baby bump, “… Including my own mother and infant brother. Including the parents of my riduur, [member="Kaden Mantis"]. Had [member="Garrus Garon"] not recommended you, and my own father [member="Preliat Mantis"] not come to live peacefully in the Silver Jedi’s lands, you would not be allowed in this hall. You fought bravely. Take this philosophical defeat with grace.”

What was Mandalore to other nations and cultures? A band of warriors for hire? A catastrophe in constant re-making? No culture outside the Mando’ade could fathom the might and strength of the Mando’ade, as much as they would use it for their personal ends.

Likewise, no culture would fathom the mercy of Mandalore, the quiet grace of the Resol’nare and the staunch desire to raise warriors faithful to the vode. The sibling hood. How could Yasha, Mand’alor the Infernal, promise her sisters and her brothers to a war not of their own making? Against a foe which has done them no harm?

“I cannot condone tactics of war which give collateral damage to such an extent… and I never will. What good is war at all if it leaves all who require assistance in unmarked, mass graves? Likewise, I have no quarrel with you. Take none with you, when you leave.”

How could she in good conscience bite that hand? How could she make the Jetii before her see there was no value in being his welcome, but worthless war machines?

“As of yet, no Jetii has shown us the security and partnership we would deserve. You want battle brothers, of those who so frequently, you murdered. Mandalore is mighty, [member="Cedric Grayson"]. We kneel to no one, and we will be watching you. Closely. Let the Jetii prove their quality to us. Let the Jetii be friends without machinations or want of our arms and our blood… Go in peace, Jetii Grayson. You have the security of knowing in my halls no harm will befall you. I wish I could say the same in yours.”

Yasha nodded to the massive blast doors at the end of the once-throne room. [member="Ambrose Mantis"] grunted and moved to stand beside Cedric Grayson. The gurlanin nodded him out, walking beside him the entire way in silence.

Mand’alor the Infernal spoke for the Empire her guardian founded.